


Free to be Happy Again

by innerbrat



Category: Claymore
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2013-12-14
Packaged: 2018-01-04 15:03:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1082439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/innerbrat/pseuds/innerbrat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clare grew angrier with each death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Free to be Happy Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [genarti](https://archiveofourown.org/users/genarti/gifts).



> Written for genarti as part of the Milliways-Bar Daily Entertainment

Many of them died.

Clare grew angrier at each death, pouring every drop of that anger and hatred into her yoma energy, awakening just a little bit more with every one of her comrades to fall. She lost track of her legs, and her left arm, and then her name, as her entire world narrowed to the sword and the immeasurable yoma energy of her opponent.

When it was over, when that yoma energy disappeared from the world, her anger stayed. And it confused her: what do you do with that anger when there's nowhere to put it. 

She looked over their bodies: Deneve and Helen too late to save, Raki too human to even try, to where Cynthia was crouching over Anastasia, refusing to give up. Some were healing themselves slowly, others were gone.

Too many were gone.

Tabitha looked up sharply at Clare, with an expression she couldn't place at first. And at first she was too tired to try: her breath was coming in heavy gasps, her heart still filled with rage. Then it struck her suddenly: fear.

It was still coursing through her. She wasn't returning back to human. 

Behind Clare, there was a gasp. Just on the edge of hearing, but with despair enough that it might as well be a howl to the gods. Clare looked over her shoulder, through the blades of her awakened arm, to where Miria was standing, sword in hand, looking past Clare at the bodies of the warriors.

"We've lost so many," she said, ignoring Clare's body. "Is this the best I could do? I lead everyone to death."

Clare stood still, and watched Miria's face crumple. She wondered that their Captain, who had been so calm, so focused, so full of purpose since they came back from the North, could suddenly look so completely broken. The scars across her face seemed to redden and break as she wailed again at all the death that had come to her comrades.

Clare hardly noticed the anger leaving her as curiosity took hold. Then, she surprised herself.

With her feet now human and bare from breaking out of her armour she crossed over to Miria and crouched in front of her. With an arm that still vibrated from using the quicksword, she placed her hand on her captain's shoulder. Miria pulled her to her tightly, and began to sob. Clare just held her.

_It's okay, Phantom Miria_ , she wanted to say. _You are not our Captain anymore. You can cry._

She was still angry. She realised she'd always be angry.

But she was happy, too.


End file.
